Darkness Decends

Why Care?

The dangerous glint in his eyes made my cold, hateful glare turn up in intensity. I can feel his hand on my throat, but I don't care, I'm beyond raving.

"I'm not doing anything for you." Not before, not now, not ever.

He pushes me down to the floor and I feel the familiar pull of the chains on my wrists, ankles, waist, and neck. I immediately shoot a glare up at him, but he isn't paying attention. I sit up and rub my wrists, which I hadn't known could get callouses from the cuffs around them.

His face is suddenly in front of me, "I'm running out of time," there's a cold tint to his tone, but he's trying to sound sincere.

Yes, you are, I think to myself. "Why should I care?"

He shoves me against the wall behind me, "Because it means your life, my life, and anybody you ever  knew, will be dead. Or do you not care like every other entertainer?"

   
Even though he's pinning me against the wall, I stick my lip out, "Too bad everyone I cared about was killed. By your people. In front of me. So do not complain about me being heartless when you are ten times worse and only care about yourself. I don't care to hear it anymore. Especially when I'm the one being held prisoner, tortured, and deprived of anything I need. You act like your life is so ba-, wait. What makes you think I'm an entertainer? Are you really making assumptions about me? You do not," I growl, "Know me, don't act like you do."

I see a spark of shock in his eyes, but then it disappears into a black hole of anger. I barely register his hand curl into a fist until it hurts my cheek. I don't whimper, I don't cry, I smile at him and look into his eyes, "You hit like a b-"

A sharp pain in my leg stops me mid-sentence. I look down at the knife in my leg. I look back up at him, "Good job genius, now I'm going to bleed out and die."

He pulls the knife out of my leg, "But before you do," he gives an annoying smirk, "You're gonna suffer."

I scowl at him, "Did you even pass English? The correct way to say what you just said is 'You are going to suffer. The way you say it sounds awk-"

The knife plunges deep into my stomach, "You are suffering."

I look up at him from the knife, "Jesus, what's wrong with you? For all you know, I could've been pregnant with your kid."

He pulls the knife out and throws it across the room, where it hits the wall, "I've never even slept with you!"

I can see the anger building up as I pretend to think about what he said, "Oh, then... I must have mistaken you for your father."

Finally, he snaps. I hear the all too familiar sound of the metal door slamming shut, and being locked.

As soon as I can't hear his heavy footsteps, I get up with a slight limp and keep pressure on my stomach. The chains drag behind me, and with little resistence, I pick up the knife he threw. I have a triumphant grin, "Gotcha." He finally slipped.

This is the first thing I've posted in a while, I hope you guys like it. Another chapter soon, I promise.

vote and comment if you can, I appreciate all of you!

Also there's a special dedication to my best friend, I love ya Homzie!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

There is also a picture of the girl (who I still need to figure out a name for, if you guys have any ideas, make sure you tell me!